


Youngblood

by elesbells



Category: CHASM - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, CHASM are all vampires, Dark Harry very much activated but no physical violence because I’m not about that life k? Cool, Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry has piercings and a bat tattoo instead of his butterfly, Harry hates Louis until he doesn’t, Harry is very fierce, Harry wears a lot of Harris Reed and Gucci, He just kinda...yeah...with like anyone and anything at first..., It’s gonna get a little crazy I’m not gonna lie, Journalist Louis, Louis really hates Harry until he doesn’t, M/M, Multi, Rolling Stone Magazine, Sex Blood and Rock ‘N’ Roll, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, This is gonna be Larry AF and endgame Larry, This is gonna be...cue Harry voice...pretty steamy, Vampire Harry, Vampires, don’t let the beginning put you off...you have to understand Harry’s...well, i’ll try my hardest to update regularly and write me bum off, slight manhandling and not of the sexual kind, that will change BELIEVE ME...TRUST ME, there will be manhandling of the sexual kind eventually though, this is a work in progress so don’t come at me if you happen to enjoy it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 03:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesbells/pseuds/elesbells
Summary: Sex, Blood, and Rock ‘N’ Roll...





	1. Prologue

**DALLAS, TEXAS: OCTOBER 2017**

"Ohhhh...ohhh...ohhh fuuuucccckkkkk yesssssss!!!"

God this one was _loud_. He snapped his hips forwards a few more times, grunting as he did so. The muscles in his left arm were bulging against the strain of holding his palm flat to the wall for the past five minutes. His other arm still had a tight grip around the girls slender waist, and he could feel her shake as she finally reached the peak of her orgasm. He could feel her body slipping, as her legs fell limp at his side.

A loud bang on the door made him snap his head up, just as he could feel himself joining the shaking red head wrapped around him.

"H!"

He frantically thrust in and out, keeping a tight grip on her as he did so, until his orgasm rippled through him, the waves of euphoria making him feel _alive_.

"Oh...fuck...Coooomiiiiing!"

He pushed forward, removing himself from the dark red head, who immediately slumped to the floor, her hysteria setting in as the after effects of the orgasm he had caused her, hit her full force. He smirked and ran a hand through his sweat ridden curls, that had frizzed slighty due to the heat of the moment.

"Oh Harry...Wow...that was...wow...."

Harry rolled his eyes, tucking himself back into his tight leather trousers, and bent down to collect his black sheer shirt; slipping it on but not bothering to button it up. He ran a hand through his curls once more and grimaced at the red head who was now writhing around on the floor. This was always the case...afterwards, the aftermath of his orgasm would be more powerful than anything she would have every experienced, and she would be almost possessed with it, for a good few minutes following. She'd get over it soon enough, and then she wouldn't remember any of it at all. She'd probably wonder what she was doing on the cold concrete floor, only remembering she had attended a gig, a really amazing gig, one that she would want to re-live over and over due to how it had made her _feel_.

That was the part he loved, the fact she wouldn't remember any of it. That was also how he kept his beaming reputation intact, a reputation as sparkling as some of the outfits he wore on stage. 'Rocks ' _good_ ' bad boy'. He had no remorse about the situation, because she'd gotten hers and he'd _certainly_ gotten his. Granted this one wasn't really in his top five, but she gave him what he needed, so he didn't have any _major_ complaints. What was that saying? You win some you lose some, and really Harry's routine was always a win-win, because as long as he got an orgasm out of it, it didn't even matter if it wasn't spectacular (he was certainly yet to experience _that_ ), he just needed to _come_ , and yeah, she'd done the trick, even if it wasn't one of the better ones, she'd do for tonight at least, and tomorrow when the band arrived at their next venue, he'd find another, and so on and so forth. It was all consensual too, they'd always consent, he definitely wasn't _that_ guy, but due to the guy that he was, due to _what_ he was, they'd always be lured in and they'd be begging for it, and once he'd chosen from the pickings, he'd lay it on thick, quite literally.

That's how it always was, how it always...went. He had to do  _something_ with that post gig adrenaline didn't he? This was better than the other alternative, less messier too... _well_...

Harry chuckled to himself at those thoughts and turned on his heel. He counted in his head like clockwork, waiting. Ah there it was. The girl cried out his name. He blew out a deep breath and turned, painting a fake smile of seduction on his lips, strolling over and crouching down in front of her.

"You're...you're leaving?!"

Her shriek made him flinch back, his ear stinging with the volume of it. Definitely _loud_ , and _way_ too clingy this one. Bless her. This is how they got see, they wanted him, again and again, over and over, and couldn't bear to have him walk away. This is when he had to ease them out of the haze they were currently in. He put them in it afterall, so it was only right. He didn't _care_ about them, far from it, but he would always make sure he didn't leave without undoing what he'd done. Oh no, that wouldn't be very good at _all_ , and especially when he wouldn't exactly be sticking around.

Harry took both of his hands and held her face, piercing her brown eyes with his green ones, his stare burning a fire into hers, that would ignite and gradually burn away the haze.

"The night's over love. You had a great time, that's all that matters yeah?"

The girl went from hysterical to immediately calm.

"Mmm...oh yeah I had a great time..."

He smirked as she giggled, letting go of her face and standing back up. Not caring that she immediately laid back down on the floor, giggling to herself as she remembered how he'd made her _feel_. Another three minutes give or take, and she would be back to normal, and that was his cue to leave. He threw a wad of dollar notes on the floor in front of her and turned on his heel.

"Get yourself a taxi home yeah..."

With that, he buttoned his shirt, smoothing it down as he strolled out of the toilet cubicle and towards the back exit.

* * *

"Styles"

A heavy body slammed into his, an arm now slung around his shoulders, and a hot breath that was tinged with red wine, fanning against his neck.

"Rowland..."

"So?"

Harry huffed out a laugh, slinging his arm around his best friends shoulders.

"Hmm...maybe a four, perhaps a five...loved the colour of her hair though...reckon I'd make a good red head?"

"You'd look like a dick head..."

"I _am_ a dickhead..."

"True!"

"Guys! If you want to make your own way we won't stop you!"

Harry smirked at Mitch and sprinted towards Clare who was standing on the first step of the tourbus, eagerly waiting them to join her.

"Really H? Again?..."

Harry pasted on a fake smile.

"Great show Clare."

"Harry you can't keep-"

"Goodnight Clare!"

Harry could practically feel his bandmates sigh through the door of the bedroom on his tourbus, as he slammed it shut, but he didn't care. He concentrated on each inhale and exhale, making sure he wouldn't get riled. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. They all knew what happened when he got angry, and it wasn't pretty. They may all have been the same in a sense, but there was something about Harry. Sure he was the youngest, but he was the fierce one, he was the powerful one, he was the frontman and the leader, he was the one in charge, and quite frankly, he could do whoever, and whatever he fuck he wanted.

Once he had calmed down enough, he removed his boots and socks, unbuttoned and removed his shirt, and groaned happily once he had slid his long legs out of his leather trousers, freeing them from the tight sweaty confines of the material. Due to the fit of the trousers, he had forwent any underwear, and to be honest, that had been a good decision, and given him easier access for the quick session after the show. He smirked to himself, as he laid down on his bed, smoothing his hand down his stomach, and idly playing with the light green jewel that was pierced through his navel. He smiled to himself, his other hand smoothing fingertips over the four diamante jewels pierced through the skin of his stomach, above, below, and on either side, creating a cross around his navel piercing. He liked how it looked, and he liked the irony of it all. The piercings were only a month old, but he was happy with his decision to have them.

They still weren't his favourite though. His breath came out stuttered and a low moan escaped his throat as his fingers toyed with his nipple piercings. At first he was only going to pierce the one, but he'd always found something so erotic about pain, and he had ended up with both pierced. He could easily get himself off without picking people from his audience, but it wasn't as fun, and he loved the thrill of it all. He loved that he could give them whatever they asked for and whatever they wanted, he loved that he could unleash his power on them so they could throw all of their inhibitions to the unknown, and just be open to whatever they desired in that moment.

He licked his lips, as one of his hands slid down his stomach and grasped his cock. It was throbbing slightly, so he gave it a few tugs, smoothing his thumb over the head and deliberately catching his nail on the slit as he continued to pleasure himself. His other hand began tugging roughly at his nipple piercing, and he arched his back on the bed, as the hand on his cock increased it's speed, his hips thrusting in time with the movement. He shut his eyes and allowed his mind to wander, a montage of sweaty skin, teeth and tongues, moans and groans, the sound of skin slapping on skin.

His hand left his nipple and pulled at his slightly frizzing curls, yanking hard at them as the hand on his cock was working at lightning speed. The fire was building in the pit of his stomach, and he swore loudly as he experienced his second orgasm of the night.

He collapsed back onto his bed, a sated smile now painting his lips. Oh yeah, that was a _good_ one. He licked his hand clean of his release; relishing his own taste and licking his lips. Youngblood had only been on tour for just over a month, but Harry had decided, that he could definitely get used to it. A smirk rested on his lips as he drifted off in his post-orgasmic state. _Sex, Blood, and Rock 'N' Roll._


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

**LOS ANGELES: JULY 2018**

' _Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and then see what we find?'_

Harry took a deep breath as the atmosphere enveloped him. The screams and cheers greeting him as the heavenly sounding music played out, and the band got ready to start the intro to the first song. Thousands of heartbeats were thumping through his ears as the screen slowly lifted and he was greeted by yet another audience. Everything erupted tenfold as the screen finally revealed his silhouette, and then as the music kicked into the first beat. The stage lights went up, revealing his form, and he thrusted and strutted himself across the stage; his arms open and gesturing for everyone to amp up their screams and cheers, waving and blowing kisses to everyone, before he made his way to his mic and his voice captured everyone in awe.

He smirked through his singing, every single person fixated on him, the power of that feeling seeping into his veins and making him feel euphoric. That's how the audience would be feeling too. They would be fixated on him for the entire show, wanting him, pining for him once he had left that stage, and wanting to redo every show over and over again. He didn't even have to use his gift, but due to what he _was_ , they would all be slightly lured in anyway, and well, that wasn't his fault now was it? Nothing he could do about _that_.

He rolled his hips and slid down the microphone stand in an obscene manner, his tongue sneaking out of his lips mischievously as he continued to belt out the lyrics to the first song, 'Only Angel'. Oh the irony of _that_ title considering.

He scanned the audience row by row, grabbing his mic and strutting across the stage, feeling like the most powerful being on the planet. His eyes caught the faces of the crowd one by one, their gazes empty, but burned directly into his. Every now and again their gazes would reach the band behind him, but they would always return to him. He was the frontman, he was the star, he was the one they wanted, and he thrived on it, ate it up as if it was his last meal.

They would be feeling a similar euphoria to him, but the difference was that they wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow, whereas he would. They would remember the _feeling_ of it all, and they would pine for that feeling until they had the chance to experience it again and again. That was why Harry was strutting across this stage right now, that was why his bandmates were playing to their hearts content right now, and that, was why Youngblood were the most talked about band in the world. A huge smile slid onto his lips, his teeth beaming like diamonds underneath the stage lights. He felt incredible, he felt like everything was always leading up to this moment. Nothing could top this.

A shiver ran up his spine as he ended the performance of the first song, catching his breath and waiting for the screaming to die down. He pushed his sweaty curls back off of his forehead, ignoring the fact they drooped down once more. Something felt different, something, wasn't _right_.

He paused in his usual speech, the audience being none the wiser, but his bandmates wondering what was going on. He turned to them all behind him, shaking his head and continuing his usual spiel, greeting everyone and saying 'Good evening Los Angeles'.

That strange feeling hit him once more and that was when he saw him. His eyes were _so_ blue, almost radiating oceanic light at him from the side of the front row. His arms were crossed, and he looked, expectant, almost, _bored_.

_What the fuck?_

He coughed into the mic and quickly turned on his heel, running over to Mitch and whispering the song change in his ear. Mitch's eyes widened but he nodded all the same when Harry made his gaze fierce and final.

 _He_ was the one in charge. This was _his_ band, and right now he had a problem he needed to... _mend_.

He didn't usually have to use his gift, _he_ was always _enough_ , but sometimes it was just neccessary, and this was one of those times.

The stage lights turned to a bright red, and once more he was nothing but a silhouette. He slid up the sleeves of his sparkly and embellished, black velvet jacket, and moved his head from side to side, stretching out his neck. He slid his fingers through his curls to push them back again, and strode up to the mic stand, gripping the mic with his ring adorned fingers.

His green eyes met blue, and he could feel the heat of his own gaze as the connection intensified.

_'Here to take my medicine, take my medicine'_

_'Treat you like a gentleman'_

He threw blue eyes a smirk after that line, licking his lips suggestively before he belted out the next verse.

_'So give me that adernaline, that adrenaline'_

_'Think I'm gonna stick with you.'_

* * *

Okay, this was just uncomfortable now. There was no denying that the frontman was hot but did he have to be so, _intense_? Louis looked all around him, because surely this guy was practically burning a hole in someone elses head and not his, _right_?

Wrong. Damn his eyes felt like they were on fire. Maybe his contact solution had expired, because wow, he felt like he wanted to scratch his contacts out of his eyes right now, and felt the immense need to look away. He blinked a few times, as the somewhat, verging on the cheeky side of explicit, lyrics seemed to envelop him. Was this guy honestly singing about sucking a guys dick? _Jesus!_ That was... _interesting_. I mean there was nothing wrong with that, and at least he could include a section about it in his article. He was all for equality, and even though he didn't know how this guy identified; because let's face it, he was just singing about a girl being a devil in between the sheets, well, _he_ himself was very _very_ gay so, there was, _that_.

Louis returned his gaze to the frontmans, and for some reason he looked angry now, like _really_ angry. _What the fuck?_

He honestly didn't sign up for this, quite literally, but _this_ was his first article for Rolling Stone, and he wasn't about to fuck it up. As he continued to watch the frontman thrust and stick out his tongue, whilst humping the mic stand obscenely, he couldn't deny he was quite aroused, but right now, the frontman looked like he wanted to eat Louis alive, and not in the good way either. He actually looked like a serial killer, which was quite far away from the rockstar in the glittery embellished jacket and trousers, owning the stage as thousands of people screamed and cheered and looked like they were, well, come to think of it, in their highest throws of passion?! _Eh?_

Louis squinted, ripping his gaze away from the frontmans, furrowing his brow as he noticed everyone looked, the same, almost as if they were under some kind of spell. Fucking hell, he really shouldn't have had that second shot of whiskey. How was he supposed to write a decent article if his brain was coming up with something as ridiculous as _that?!_ There was no denying the frontman was enchanting, but there was something about him that made him look almost... _dangerous_.

* * * *

Harry was absolutely reeling. His bandmates had all gotten the message loud and clear when he had stormed off of the stage after the final song, sprinting down the stairs, and stomping into his dressing room with a loud slam of the door.

His bandmates had momentarily worried said door would come off of its hinges, due to the sheer force in which Harry slammed it, but so far the door was still fully intact. There wasn't anyway anyone would dare bother Harry when his temper was like this.

 _Why didn't it work? Why the fuck didn't it work?! Who the fuck was this guy and what was he doing here?_ This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at _all_.

He slipped out of his jacket and threw it down on the black velvet sofa, opposite the one he had perched himself on the edge of. He stood up, pacing back and forth as his mind was running over all the possibilities, none of which made any sense, which just riled hum further. He took deep breaths, as he untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it in haste, his fingers reaching the last button, just as a knock sounded on the door.

His head snapped up and he quickly re-did some of the buttons on his shirt, but left it untucked, as he strode to the door, opening it to be faced with the bright blue eyes that had been haunting him for the past hour and a half.

"You!"

He flung his arm forward and pointed to the man before him, his index finger mere inches from the mans chest.

"Errr...."

"Who are you and why are you here?!"

Harrys voice boomed, making the man flinch slightly, although he recovered well and cleared his throat.

"Woah! Calm down yeah? My name is Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Nick sent me? Nick Grimshaw...Rolling...Rolling Stone? They said you were expecting us...well _me_...if this is a bad time, we can reschedule mate..."

Harry composed himself and cleared his throat, a forced chuckle leaving his lips. Maybe if he could get this guy alone, he could get his answers.

"Oh! Right! Of course! Yes. I...remember now, slipped my mind for a second, I...come in...please...."

He was practically speaking through gritted teeth, but he had to get this guy inside, get him in a confined space, so he could, not pounce exactly; granted that's what his instincts were telling him to do, but maybe he just needed a one on one with him, maybe what with the crowd being so large, it didn't, reach him, that's all. That had never happened before but, there are first times for everything right? Once he had this, rather attractive man alone, then it would...work...and he could gain his sanity back and forget all about the mental breakdown he had had during the show.

"Right...I mean...as long as you're sure?"

He looked so, sincere, so vulnerable. Harry could feel the smirk twisting its way onto his lips.

"Oh I'm...very sure."

Louis reached up and scratched the back of his neck, and then strolled into the room, taking in the surroundings as the door closed behind him, leaving just him and Youngbloods frontman Harry Styles, inside. There were black drapes, two black velvet sofas, and several candles, placed in maroon glass jars, littered about the space, bathing the room in a cosy yet eerie light.

"Interesting...err...aesthetic...very...emo....guess that kinda goes along with the whole..."

Louis gestured his hands at the dishevelled rockstar in front of him, quite frankly feeling like an idiot.

"The whole?"

"Errr..."

Harry smirked and stepped into Louis' space, Louis stepping backwards until Harry had him pinned against the wall.

"Hello Louis."

"Yeah...errr....feeling a bit claustraphobic mate...can you...back up...a little...?"

"Hmm...well...I mean I could but....I won't..."

Harry's forehead was inches from Louis; as he bent down slightly, staring deep into Louis' eyes and waiting for the magic to unleash.

"Mate...seriously, this isn't cool yeah?"

"WHY THE FUCK WON'T YOU SUCCUMB TO ME?!"

Harry punched the wall with immense force, his fist indenting the wall instantly, just mere inches from Louis' head. His blue eyes practically popping out of his skull.

"THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

"WHY WON'T IT WORK? WHY THE FUCK-"

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME MATE? YOU NEARLY CRACKED ME FUCKING HEAD IN?! THE FUCK KINDA DRUGS ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'M NOT ON ANY KIND OF...FUCK!!! FUCK FUCK FUCCCCK! WHAT ARE YOU?! WHO SENT YOU?!"

Harry was grabbing Louis' t-shirt, fisting at the white fabric and yanking Louis towards him.

"SECURITY! GET THE FUCK OFF ME MAN!!!"

Harry let go as if he had been burned; realising he had to calm down, that he couldn't be like this with just anyone, and Louis stood in shock, smoothing out his t-shirt.

"Screw this shit, I'm out of here! You're fucking nuts!"

Just as Louis turned on his heel, Harry slammed into the door, blocking Louis from exiting, an animalistic growl ripping out of his throat as he did so.

Louis stood absolutely stunned and frozen by the volume of the noise that seemed to echo around them both, his hands rising slowly in a gesture of surrender.

"Calm...calm down yeah...just ca-"

"DON'T FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!"

Harry was roaring now and Louis was wondering where the fuck security were. The man before him looked absolutely insane, his eyes bloodshot and a darker green than they had been previously, his large hands gripping at his sweat-drenched curls.

"O.."

His voice croaked and he cleared his throat, ducking his head and finding his vans the most interesting thing to be looking at, at that moment, honestly wondering what the fuck was even happening.

"Okay...I...look mate...I..."

"LOOK AT ME!!!"

Louis snapped his head up so quickly, his neck pulled and he winced.

"Fuck...okay...I'll...I'll look at you yeah just..."

Louis didn't even know what he was saying, he just knew he wanted to stop speaking and stop making Harry any angrier than he already was. The rockstar was practically livid, and Louis was wondering how strong the drugs running through his system must have been.

His breath hitched as Harry stepped forward, his gaze burning flames into Louis'. Harry rested his forehead against Louis' and Louis' eyes widened as he watched Harry lick his lips and lean forward.

"HARRY!!! HARRY OPEN UP!"

Harry sprang away from Louis like a cat as the door burst open. His bandmates standing on the other side with wide eyes and parted lips. Louis shook his head and darted out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

"H...what did you do....?"

"He wouldn't...he wouldn't succumb...why wouldn't he succumb?"

Harry slid down the wall, gripping at his curls, shaking with the rage and anger of the situation. He didn't understand. He didn't understand why his gift wasn't working on Louis.

"H..."

Clare dismissed Mitch with her hand, her eyes flicking to Sarah. Sarah nodded and gently lead Mitch away, with an arm around his waist.

"He'll be alright. Clares got him. He'll be fine..."

"I'll go after the journalist..."

Clare nodded her head at Adam with pursed lips and turned back to Harry.

"Oh H..."

* * *

"Wait! Wait! Please!"

Louis could feel his lungs burning, but he could see the exit, just a few more metres and he could run to his car and drive straight to the nearest Police Station. Nick wanted a story, and boy was Nick going to get one. The good bad guy of rock his arse! More like the drugged up psycho of rock. That didn't have the best ring to it, so he'd have to work on the title.

"What the-"

Louis skidded and halted his running as one of the band appeared in front of him in a blur.

"You can't...you can't tell anyone about this...."

"The fuck I won't...."

"You don't understand..."

"You listen here MATE. I was fucking manhandled and placed in a confined space with a drugged up psycho!!!"

"He's not....he's not on drugs...it's not...not what you-"

"Hah! Yeah mate, that's what they all say...maybe he should've thought about that before. WOAH!"

In the space of a split second Louis was grabbed by the t shirt and his legs were dangling in mid air, as the tall man, fisted the material and let out a growl.

"You will NOT tell ANYONE about this. GOT IT?! If you even try to do so...I will fucking hunt you down...."

Louis was beginning to wonder what horror movie he had drifted into and very much wanted to wake up at any second.

"Sweet Dreams Louis."

"What?"

* * *

Louis shot up in bed, sweat dripping from his temple. He jerked and took in his surroundings. His window was wide open and he was on his bed, still wearing his clothes. He felt so confused. He was sure he was elsewhere. He didn't even remember coming home. Maybe it was a rough night. He'd attended the gig Nick wanted him to, at The Forum. He'd interviewed the band, but not the frontman. That's right. Louis clicked his fingers as it all came flooding back to him. The frontman was taken ill after the gig. He wasn't surprised. The guy had clearly over-exerted himself. Nick really wanted that interview though. Nick told him he wouldn't remotely pass his probation if he didn't get him an interview with ‘Harry Styles: The good bad guy of rock’. The fuck was he supposed to do now? He suddenly felt disorientated and the room started spinning. He was sweating and a blurred montage of him in the frontmans dressing room swirled around his mind. He must have been dreaming. Suddenly everything went black, and two flashes of green lit up the darkness, before he was encased in darkness once more. His eyes flew open, and after taking a few deep breaths, he slowly sat up in bed, and went to pull off his t-shirt. He squinted his eyes in the moonlit room, at what looked like a large tear through the chest area.

"What the fuck?"

He quickly undid and yanked off his jeans and snuggled underneath the covers, a shiver running down his spine as he settled. Maybe that second shot of whiskey was a bad idea. He closed his eyes and was met with images of the gig he had attended that night. Harry Styles strutting across the stage, rolling his hips suggestively down his mic stand, his green eyes setting everyone in the audience on fire. The images were so vivid it was like he was back in The Forum again, and he tossed and turned slightly, before he started to drift off. The image of Harrys green eyes and smirking lips flashed into his mind, and the sensation of his whole body feeling like it was being set alight overtook him, before he finally fell into a deep sleep.

_'Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes'_


End file.
